


My Husband is a Tyrannical Emperor, But We're Fixing It.

by sunbabe



Category: Original Work
Genre: Also there's a whole ass subplot, Eventual Smut, If you squint of course but it surprisingly it'll be important in another time, Its a mess excuse me, Its a transmigration story yall know where this is going, Lots of Angst, M/M, More tags to be added, Multi, Original Character Death(s), Original Universe, Other, but there's fluff too
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-14
Updated: 2020-05-14
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:14:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24176440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunbabe/pseuds/sunbabe
Summary: " And, what do you plan to do? "GuiYing Cheng questioned, his voice barely above a whisper. The male stood over the other by a few inches, yet the aura he gave could make even the biggest animal want to shrink away. Yet, Xing Li-Jun simply stood his ground, a strange feeling curling in his stomach. He could feel the eyes on him, boring into his very soul, yet he swallowed a breath and then spoke - his voice matching the whisper that left the tyrant's lips," Whatever it takes. "-The most terrifying emperor was the title that GuiYing Cheng earned himself. He held the people under an iron grip, and anyone who dared rebel against him ended up dead.He scared the people into his control, and it seemed like all hope was lost for the people when the only one willing to stand against the emperor died—the resistance dying with him. That was, until Xing Li-Jun found himself in another's body.He had transmigrated into the body of a man named Shi Huan, who had been on the brink of death. So now, eight years after his original death, the male was left with far to many questions. The biggest one, however, was how he'd manage being the bride of a tyrannical emperor. He was sure he could, though!
Relationships: Minor or Background Relationship(s), Original Male Character/Original Male Character
Kudos: 1





	1. 00.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey hey! Author here! I'd like to let you know that is a rewritten and a newly plotted version of an older story by the same title! 
> 
> I can't say I will have proper translations or usages of any terms, but I will try! Any corrections or assistance is greatly appreciated! 
> 
> Also with that! I'd like to give a heads up!  
> In this, I will touch a lot on aspects of death, manipulation, abuse, and likely more subjects - will add warnings in each chapter. 
> 
> I do not condone any behavior within this story! 
> 
> But if that isn't your forte, understandable! And if such subjects bother you, please click off and take care of yourself! 
> 
> With that said, please carry on and enjoy!

_**I have not taken an easy path, but it is mine.** _

* * *

A bird soared across the sky, brown wings beating gently against the wind. The land that the bird flew over was beautiful; there was green hills, seemingly fertile and rolling endlessly. Streams flowed across the land, painting the green with a bright blue. Flowers sprung up, leaving splotches of color across the ground. Yet, with every beautiful thing, there was something horrid that laid below it.

And for this land, it was the man who ruled it; the soil always seemed stained red with the curse of his control.

His name was GuiYing Cheng. The tyrant that grasped the world and brought it down to its knees. Many people called him the hound of hell—the people found it fair to compare him to a _beast_ —though the name had clearly been taken with pride. So more insults spiraled; people began to call him a dog. A bastard. That son of a _bitch._ He didn't take kindly to that last one—given the first person that ever said that aloud ended up beheaded.

And so, those insults rarely reached his ears. The people's fear kept them simply murmuring them under their breathe. Always too afraid to speak the words that sat on the edge of their tongue— but, could you blame them? None wanted to be at the end of the emperor's temper, lest they sought to court death. 

There had only been one who was willing to fight against this—but his name was now only spoken in whispers. A hero whose life ended in tragedy; a man who was named Xing Li-Jun. He had died when he was only 18, his body found in the river only days after GuiYing Cheng ascended to the throne. Many made theories of how the cruel emperor had murdered the man so that he wouldn't have anyone going against his will. This simply made people believe more in his inhumanity. 

But, no one knows for sure if this was the true fate that befell the tragic hero; as there was many secrets under the surface. They chose to believe that they knew, though. 


	2. 01.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Xing Li-Jun wakes up in the body a man he doesn't know. This prompts several questions.

_**I am shaking inside; beneath my breastbone, a hammer pounds.** _

* * *

Sunlight poured into an almost empty home, the golden rays washing over a man that was tucked into a bed. His eyes fluttered open, and a soft groan escaped his lips. Pain settled in his bones, one that the male wasn't used too. His head was rather fuzzy, only managing to make out the outlines of things as his eyes opened.

This was once a man who was named Shi Huan, yet now, the soul of another—who was named Xing Li-Jun—now inhabits his body.

He slowly pushed himself up, his hand pressed to the side of his head, as if that would ease the pounding. _'Where am I?'_ Was the first thought to cross his mind. All that Xing Li-Jun remembered was...Well, he couldn't say he remembered much. Only that he had died, and was left in darkness.

For how long, he was unsure. 

But now, he was sitting in an old bed, with sunlight streaming into the room. The place smelled of dirt—like it had just rained and the soil had been soaked by the water—amongst other things. Things he couldn't exactly name, but he knew them. Xing Li-Jun didn't particularly mind it. Then again, when one is dead for a long period of time, any sensation other than the darkness would be greatly welcomed. For a moment, he simply laid in the bed, staring upwards. None of this felt natural. There was clearly some reason as to why he was here—given he should currently be dead.

It made no sense.

And even more so, he was a little concerned of whose body he ended up in; he knew well enough that it wasn't his own. That was worrying for him, as who knows who this person was? And what of his family? Another concerning subject that arose in his mind was the lack of noise; only the soft sound of whistling winds and rustling trees filled the air. Everything seemed so _still._ As if there was no else around him. As if this was some sort of lucid dream that he was bound to wake from. 

And Xing Li-Jun was almost sure it was simply a strange dream that he had conjured. When he had died, he had made his peace with the world. His death may have been untimely—and quite frankly he didn't even remember the how he died now that he placed thought to it— but he supposed that if he had died then, that was his fate. So why was he here? In this body that didn't belong to him.

Xing Li-Jun paused for a moment, before raising his hand up. The blanket that had been loosely covering his frame shifted, settling lower on his body as he examined the appendage. The skin was marred with scars, though small and thin. These were gained through years of working on the fields, with the occasional fight. He sighed as he retracted his hand, letting it rest over his eyes. Should he try to sleep again? Try to wake himself up, to see if this was a dream?

He decided against that. If this were a dream, wouldn't he be awake now? And if it was, he wanted to at least savor this feeling. Just for a little longer.

Xing Li-Jun paused for a moment, before pushing himself to sit up. The movement was slow, cautious. As if this body were glass, and he swore it could be. A bit of pain flared through his body, and a shaky cough followed suit. It racked his body, and left a faint ache in his chest. He grimaced lightly, before giving the room a glance over. It was small, and simple. There wasn't much to it, only a bed it seemed. 

Xing Li-Jun sighed softly as he slowly shuffled out of the bed, scooting the blanket to the side as he did. The robes he wore were thin, and showed age; the fabric was worn to the point it was tearing in some places. Of course, Xing Li-Jun wasn't bothered by that any. He wore his fair share of his tearing robes in his day, and he grew used to it.

If anything, he'd prefer the aging robes over anything fancy. 

Xing Li-Jun shook a little as he stood, not used to the feeling of being solid. Of having a body; the feeling of being alive was strange. He exhaled gently as he peered around the room once more. Maybe there was a sign of why he was here? It was likely he could've been summoned. Or at least, he knew it wasn't something he could dismiss. 

But there seemed to be little evidence of that idea. So, he brushed it aside for the time being. Simply, he stood there for a moment, shifting from foot to foot. Trying to process the feeling of wood under bare feet. He took another pause, before raising his hand once more. This time, to card it through his hair. He paused, his fingers clutching around the dark locks in a gentle grasp.

He took a moment, simply feeling before tugging them over his shoulder. The locks seemed to reached a bit over his shoulder, and were close to a black color. Surprisingly, the hair felt less course than he would've expected; then again, he made assumptions about this body due to the way that his hands were calloused. Maybe he was wrong.

Slowly stepping forwards, Xing Li-Jun slowly circled around the room. Trying to get used to the feeling of legs, and trying to remember how to properly walk. As each step he took caused his legs to shake a little, and occasionally they threatened to collapse under his weight. Well, he'd overcome that with more practice, right? He hoped so.

Xing Li-Jun paused for a moment, standing in the middle of the room before casting a glance towards the opened door. His brows furrowed, head tilting to the side slightly. There seemed to be no one else in the house, which meant the door was left open beforehand. At least, that was his first thought. But with that, he decided that it couldn't hurt to explore the house.

He paused, before slowly wobbling to the door. Raising a hand, his fingers curled around the edge of the sliding door, clutching the object as he straightened his posture. He peered outside of the room, watching cautiously for anyone who may appear at the sound. Nothing. He sighed gently—he wasn't sure if it was out of relief or confusion—as he stepped out. 

With that, he began to stumble his way around the house. It was rather small, with a few rooms, one of the rooms having a surprisingly decorative opening that allowed the sunlight to peer in and bathed the room with a golden hue. He supposed it was a special room, to have this sort of detail. He didn't linger for too long, as his interest was focused towards the outside. It didn't take him long to find his way outside. And for a moment, he couldn't care that he was in his inner robes, or that his feet were bare. 

The air was so _fresh_ and it felt so _real._

Xing Li-Jun almost wanted to cry. He missed the feeling of the sun as it batted against his skin, soaking it with warmth. And he missed the feeling of the wind gently blowing through his hair. He had to admit, he missed being alive. He exhaled slowly, gazing around before noticing a nearby water trough. That was a curious sight. 

Slowly wobbling his way over, he peered into the water. There, he was met with the reflection of whoever's body he inhabited. Looking back at him was a surprisingly fair young man—at least Xing Li-Jun wouldn't say he was bad looking. Dark hair spilled down his shoulder, paired with tanned skin and a round face. It had some sort of soft features to it, he supposed. But what had caught him off was the eyes.

He had expected to see dark colored eyes to match the hair—maybe even green—yet he was met with soft blue ones. Much like his eyes. Like he had when he was living. That was particularly strange in his opinion, but he didn't question it. Maybe these were simply the eyes that this man had as well. 

That seemed like a reasonable answer. And now, he supposed, he should get dressed. There had to be a town nearby, and it was better to gather what information he could now than wait. 

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments are appreciated! ( the poems used at the beginnings are from the twitter user vincentvangone ,, show them some love! ) 
> 
> Come yell @ me on twitter ( @eldritchgods )


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